We are all Time-Travellers in a way.
Believing more in Sojourns than in Permanent residences.
Trusting our instincts rather than decisions.
And preferring to commence travel by announcing rather than arriving.
Ruining beautiful thing that Travel evidently is.
We are all Time-Travellers in a way.
Reading Poems, without fastening the seat-belts.
Not believing in the concept of “Poetry in Motion”
Or the giddiness or joyous spring in the stride that a good poetry can bring.
Only scathing surface of the entire sea-bed that writing entails.
We are all Time-Travellers in a way.
Spending our days wandering and nights recuperating.
Rather than spending every single moment of breathing lifetime on traversing.
Travelling inwards, as we travel further, taking deep casting sighs.
And not entrusting our own sense of direction or destination.
And hence at times ruing for not been able to reach the destination
While actually having passed-by the milestone way back, since we were distracted.
We are all Time-Travellers in a way.
And we arguably have learnt to be proud of it.
